And One Makes Three
by Tiamat Feuerbraut
Summary: After a staff Christmas party, Ziva and Tony end up spending the night together - with unexpected consequences. While they are trying to deal with the changes in their lives, they race against the clock to find the serial killer who is targeting marines - and soon NCIS agents seem to be on his list as well...
1. Chapter 1

So, now this is my first (published) story in English. I hope it turned out well enough.

At first, I just wanted to make this a one-shot, and knowing me, it probably will stay one forever. But perhaps I will continue the story, if anyone is interested and once I managed to finish my novel... until then, consider this a one-shot.

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><p>Ziva stared at the tiny, pink smilie-face on the test. Pink. Pink was bad. Really bad. Blue, blue was a nice color, nice and safe. Why was this face pink? It shouldn't be.<p>

_Congratulations, you are having a baby!_

She must have read this line of the package insert a hundred times by now, and still couldn't quite comprehend what it meant. _Having__ a __baby._ A tiny, pink, smiling baby. How the hell had this even happened?

Ziva felt like screaming. She felt the urge to take the test back to the drugstore and shove it into that smug cashier's face. Which probably would get her into even more trouble than she already was in. And it wasn't even this guy's fault. It all came down to Tony. Damn that man! How _dare_ he do this to her?

Granted, she should have stopped him before it went too far. Knocked him out or kicked him in the groin or something. But that would have seriously ruined everybody's Christmas...

She had promised herself to stick to one Eggnog, and only one! But then McGee had bumped into her, and she had spilled half of it. And the second one wasn't really a second one because she never finished the first one. And when Abby had poured her that weird schnapps of hers that tasted like cinnamon, she just couldn't say no – Abby had bought the drink only for the occasion after all. And so Ziva maybe had one or two drinks too much. The rest of the Christmas party had been fun, and she had lost track of time. One second she was sharing a plate of Christmas cookies with Gibbs, and next thing she knew she was making out with Tony in the elevator. She didn't even recall how they had exited the building, but she definitely remembered the wide grin of the cab driver in the rear-view mirror. Then they were in the elevator again, taking them up to the fifth floor to Tony's apartment. They'd barely made it to the bedroom, the trail of clothes leading from the door to the bed had proved that. She just couldn't figure out how her shirt had ended up on the ceiling lamp...

And then there were the memories of the night. There was Tony, leaving a trail of light kisses on her skin while he removed her shirt and bra. He had pulled her close, so close, when she had turned him around and pushed him onto the bed before he could protest. His skin, hot against hers, when there where finally no more clothes left to separate them. He had kissed her and caressed her and whispered into her ear...

_Mine._

He had whispered this with stunning certainty.

_You are mine._

When she had woken up in his bed at sunrise, that had been the only thing she remembered clearly. And it had been what had made her frantically collect her clothes and driven her out of his apartment before he could wake up and talk to her like _that_ again.

She wasn't his. She couldn't be. Not if he made her feel so... torn. Vulnerable and safe at the same time. It confused her. _He_ confused her. And she couldn't let that happen. She needed a clear head to fulfil her duties. She couldn't let this man distract her – especially if they were out in the field together.

This couldn't be.

They couldn't be together.

Ziva threw the test into the bin. The mirror showed her her face, eyes puffy and red. She splashed her face with cold water in a futile attempt to make it look like she had not just cried for half an hour. She wiped at her eyes stubbornly before she left the lady's room and returned to her desk. She couldn't think about this right now. She needed some time to pull herself together. She needed time to-

'Dead Petty Officer at the Monument!' Gibbs clapped his hands. 'Ziva, DiNozzo, get your stuff!'

Ziva nodded and grabbed her bag, while Tony shuffled around in his desk drawer. When Ziva hurried after Gibbs, he quickly caught up to her.

'Ziva, are you alright? You look like you've been-'

'I'm fine!' Ziva snapped, 'Mind your own business, we are at work!'

She pushed past him and practically ran down the stairs to avoid being scolded by Gibbs for being late. When she arrived, he and Tony already sat in the car, having used the elevator. She prepared for Gibbs's remark, but he remained silent. He shot her an odd glance, though, and suddenly Ziva wasn't sure anymore if she could keep this secret from the others.

But she had to.

At least until she knew what to do.

-o-

Tony watched as Ziva skimmed through the pictures of the crime scene. He knew he was supposed to call the dead guy's wife, but he just couldn't take his eyes off Ziva. He had to know what was going on.

She had been avoiding him. Ever since that Christmas party she had been nothing but professional at work – too professional. And not a single private encounter since then. She always left so quickly he couldn't catch up to her until she was in her car and speeding past him, and in the morning she was always the last one to come in. This was so unlike her, even the others had noticed that something was going on between them. Most of them had by now figured out what had happened after the party, but it had been six weeks, and even McGee knew that was too long to dwell in regrets about a one night stand with a colleague. And McGee usually was pretty clueless.

He had to ask her. Confront her, if necessary. But he wouldn't just let her go like this. If a fight was what she needed, alright then. He'd let her knock him out if she wanted to so she could draw something ridiculous on his face. And he would walk around and have everybody laugh at him, pretending he didn't know. But it would not end with this painful silence between them.

This evening, when Ziva headed to the elevator, he was prepared. He grabbed his things, yelled a 'See you tomorrow, Probie!' into McGee's general direction and practically jumped into the elevator just before the doors closed. As soon as the elevator started, he pushed the emergency stop button, and the elevator came to a sudden halt.

'Tony! What are you doing?'

The look Ziva gave him he would never forget. He had expected regret, anger, fury even, given that she was a very passionate woman – in many ways. But this look of sadness and grief, that was like a bullet straight into his heart. She looked resigned, defeated. And he didn't know why, and _that_ made _him_ furious.

'Ziva, what the hell is going on here?'

He saw her flinch at his words, which irritated him even more. She was his crazy Mossad-ninja, she didn't flinch!

'You've been avoiding me for weeks! I haven't talked to you about anything except cases since that party. If you are mad at me for that night, fine! I'm okay with that, but you should remember that I am not the only one responsible! And if you want to yell at me, I'm okay with that, too. Just tell me what the hell I have done that made you so angry!'

'Stop shouting at me!' she screamed with a high-pitched voice so unlike her usual tone, 'I swear if you don't get us out here in a minute I will kick your sorry ass into next week!'

Great. He had made her angry. Now he only needed her to tell him why she was so mad at him.

'You didn't seem to find my ass sorry!' he snorted, 'I remember something more along the lines of sexy when you last saw me butt naked."

He took half a step back, expecting her to hit him for that particular remark. And she did. Hard. Just not the way he had thought she would. He had expected some crazy, ninja-like Mossad move. Instead, she had slapped him. Just like any other woman furious at a man. And now she was in tears, her face red with anger, and he didn't know what to say. This was Ziva. She didn't cry. Never. What was going on here?

'Don't you dare saying that again!' she cried, 'Never, ever talk about that again!'

'What... Ziva, why are you crying? I didn't mean to hurt you, I just... Ziva, I'm so sorry, if had known you didn't want to-'

'But I wanted to!' she cut him off and banged her fist against the wall, 'I wanted to, and that's why I'm here and cry and wish I could kill you just now so it never happened, but that would not make anything right, and Gibbs would be angry and Abby and McGee probably too, and I would have screwed the baby's life up even before it was born, and I just can't do that!'

By now, she was lying in his arms, sobbing and punching him and muttering swear words under her breath in Hebrew. And he was none the wiser. What the hell was she talking about?

'Okay, Ziva, you lost me at the killing me part' he said, 'why would Gibbs be angry? And what does this have to do with babies?'

'You just don't get it, do you?' she howled, 'During that damn night after the party, you idiot knocked me up!'

'You... I... what?'

Tony was completely taken aback. He had done _what_ to her?

'I'm pregnant, you ignorant bastard!'

She looked so furious that Tony decided to keep holding her. Less room for her to strike out, although it brought her teeth dangerously close to his throat.

'You're pregnant' Tony repeated weakly, 'how long did you know?'

'About a week.'

Her voice was quiet now, shaky, and her face was wet from all the tears. Tears he'd liked to kiss away, each tear a kiss, until she had no more tears left to cry. Instead, he gently pulled her down with him to sit against the elevator wall.

'Why didn't you tell me?'

'I was scared!' she snapped, 'Tony, do you even realize what all this means for me? My life is going to change forever! First I thought I could get over this, that this night was a mistake and nothing like that would ever happen again. I _couldn't_ let it happen again!'

'Why?' Tony demanded, 'What is wrong about us being together?'

'It makes me weak, Tony!' She looked at him, defeated, exhausted. 'I'm in love with you. Have been for a long time now. That's why I didn't stop you that night. But these feelings... I couldn't do my job anymore if I allowed them to take over. I would always be worried, distracted, and I can't be distracted. I could put us all in danger, do you understand?'

'But, Ziva, that's how it is _now_!' Tony pulled her close, and she didn't resist. 'I _am_ always worried about you. And that's why I work twice as hard to do my job right. To protect _you_!' He chuckled, and she frowned upon the sound. 'You just don't get it, either. I'm in love with you, too. Why do you think I let all that happen at the party? I wouldn't have gone so far if I had planned to leave it at that one night. I would never treat you like that!'

He kissed her forehead and looked down on her.

'Listen, Ziva, I'm sorry how this happened. It just went all wrong, and I wish I could undo it so we could start again. And I sure as hell didn't mean to get you pregnant. But now we are in this situation, and we are in this together, no matter what.' He sighed. 'I can't even imagine right now how this is gonna turn out, but I promise that we work something out. One way or the other, we will find a way out of this. But really,' he glanced up at the control panel, 'this is no place to talk this over. No coffee, no pastries and no annoying McGee to ask nosy questions. What the hell is security doing, anyway? Shouldn't they get us out of here or something?'

As if on cue, the speaker cracked, and a voice filled the elevator.

'Sorry, guys, I was taking a smoking break. So, what did you do to get stuck in that thing?'

'Never mind' Tony muttered, 'just get us out of this thing, okay?'

-o-

When one of the security guys pried open the doors a few minutes later, Ziva was holding Tony's hand. He was holding her, safe and warm, and suddenly she wasn't afraid at all. He was right. She could do this. They could. And they'd do it together. No matter what.


	2. Chapter 2

So, uh, yeah, long story short, I had a rather dull workshop this week which left me with plenty of time for getting some work done while listening with half an ear. And since I'm kinda stuck in a complicated scene in my novel I decided to give this story a shot.

I have no idea how regularly I'll update (that totally depends on my progress with my original novel) or how long the story eventually will be. I'm aiming for at least an update a month, more if I can manage. So bear with me, there's a life outside the fic ;)

Also, I'm thinking about building the whole Tony-Ziva-relationship-thing around a crime story involving a seriously deranged serial killer. Anyone interested in that?

Anyway, if you'd like me to continue the story and wish for frequent updates, just drop me a line and I'll do my best. Oddly, I seem to work best when under pressure, so this might help ;)

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><p>'There you go.'<p>

Ziva looked back at Tony who placed a cup and plate in front of her. After leaving the office (and threatening the security guy so he wouldn't tell anyone what happened), they had decided to talk their situation over right now. Tony had suggested a small 24/7 self service diner near the Potomac; she could see the dark water when she looked out the window. Now he had returned from the counter with coffee for himself and tea for her, and pie for both of them. The smell of apples and whipped cream reminded Ziva how hungry she was.

'Thanks.'

They both ate in silence for a few minutes, until Tony put his fork down and leaned back.

'Okay, now, let's get this over with. We need to talk.'

Slowly, Ziva chewed the bite she had taken and swallowed. She took a sip of her still too hot tea, wiped her lips and folded the napkin beside her plate. Finally, she couldn't avoid his eyes any longer. When she met his gaze, he eyed her suspiciously.

'You won't cry again, will you?' he asked warily. Ziva shot him a fierce glance.

'Not if I can help it', she growled, 'I'd much rather kick your ass, but I figure the baby will want its father, so consider yourself safe. What?' she demanded when Tony grinned at her.

'Nothing. I'm just glad you're back to ninja mode.'

'You do know you're driving my guts, do you? Dammit, _what now_?'

Now Tony barely held back a laugh.

'I think the term you're looking for is _driving me nuts_', he explained, 'anyway, why this time?'

Ziva crumpled up her napkin.

'Do you even vaguely understand how much everything will change now? I'm having your baby, and you are making ninja jokes!'

Tony quickly became serious again.

'I know, I know. Don't you think I care about... this?' He sighed. 'It's just... jokes make it a little easier to cope with, I guess.'

'Well', Ziva huffed, 'then just watch out they don't get out of control.' She let go of her napkin and grabbed her cup. 'So... what do we do now?'

'Good question.' Tony played with his fork. 'I think... I mean, you do want to... keep the baby? You are not thinking about an abortion?'

'God, no!' Ziva stared at him in disbelief, 'I could never do that!'

'I didn't say you would!' Tony defended himself, 'I just wanted to be sure of what I have to expect.'

'That would be a baby, I guess', Ziva replied dryly. Tony chuckled and put his cup aside.

'That I already know.' He reached over the table and took her free hand. 'But how do we handle it? How do we raise the kid? I mean, you do want me to raise the child?' he added, concern clear in his voice. Ziva smiled reassuringly and lightly pressed his hand.

'Of course I do. Every child should have a loving father.'

She bit her lip as she thought of her own father. Maybe he loved her, in his own way, but he had always tried to mold her into the form that served his plans best. As he had with Ari. And see how well that had worked out.

Tony must have read her mind, for he leaned forward and gently stroke her hand.

'Don't think about Eli now', he murmured, 'I will be a perfect father. I promise.' He hesitated, then frowned. 'Do you want me to be a perfect boyfriend, too?'

Confused, Ziva looked up. 'What?'

'I mean, I'd really like to', Tony went on before she could say more, 'but I don't want you to feel like I'm only with you for the baby's sake. I'm crazy about you, I really am. But... if you want to take it slow, I can do that. I'll flirt with you at work and annoy Gibbs and ask you out on a first date and court you, if you like.'

'Court me?' Ziva grinned. 'Isn't that what knights do with their ladies?'

'It's not the only thing knights do with their ladies. They sing them love songs, too.'

They grinned at each other, and for the first time in days Ziva felt the weight the discovery of her pregnancy had put on her shoulders lighten. So Tony really was serious about this. He wanted a relationship as much as she did. But still...

'I think you're right', she said thoughtfully, 'we shouldn't rush things. Maybe we would screw up and ruin everything just because we didn't have time to get to know each other as a couple.' She cocked her head. 'So, a first date would be nice.'

'Excellent.' Tony beamed at her. 'And I think I already now what we will do. But first', he lifted his finger, 'we'll have to find out if we even fancy each other. You know, flirting and teasing and stuff. We'll do it by the book.'

Ziva hid her smile in her tea cup.

'Alright then. So, do you want to ask me for my phone number, or does that come later? You know, I never really had a thing for a co-worker, so I have no idea how this works.'

'Exchanging private phone numbers comes after the talk by the water dispenser, and before the gossip by the colleagues starts.'

'I'm afraid I already screwed that part up', Ziva murmured, 'so maybe we need to change the book a little.'

'Ziva, Darling, we have to use an entirely different book here.'

He sighed and grabbed his coffee pot.

'So, do you have plans already? I mean, about... the little guy.'

Ziva picked her pie.

'I will need a bigger place, I guess. No way I will paint my living room pink and put a crib next to the sofa.'

'Wouldn't make for such a great movie night, having to keep the volume down during Die Hard so the little dude doesn't wake up.'

'How do you know it's a boy?' Ziva asked, 'It's too early to know. Besides, I'm not exactly sure if I want a miniature Tony in my life. One Anthony DiNozzo is exhausting enough.'

'Hey, you wouldn't have to bother about that. Whenever he's getting too excited, I'll take him to the park and play catch with him, or teach him how to ride a bike, or-'

'Show him how to hit on the girl scouts?'

'Not before his seventh birthday.'

Ziva rolled her eyes and finished her pie. The slices here were pretty large, but she was still hungry. She hadn't had dinner after all. Hungrily, she eyed Tony's piece, which he had barely touched. Her somewhat-boyfriend sighed and pushed his plate over to her.

'I guess we have to find you something more nutritious than pie.'

Nodding, Ziva took a bite.

'I'd like pizza', she mumbled through the apples, 'or maybe sushi. Mexican or Thai would be okay, too.'

'Why not all of it?' Tony finished his coffee and made a vague gesture in the general direction of his apartment. 'We could go to my place, you pick a movie, and I order some of everything. And then we watch TV and eat and argue until we are both too tired to do anything stupid when we go to bed.'

'I thought we were way beyond 'stupid' by now.' Ziva smiled. 'But I like the idea.'

-o-

By the time they reached his place, Tony could hear Zivas stomach growl. Hell, that woman had eaten two obscenely big slices of apple pie, and she still was about to barbecue and eat _him_. Shaking his head, he motioned towards the shelf displaying his DVD collection.

'Pick anything you want, I'll order the food.'

When he finally hung up on the Sushi guy, someone rung the doorbell, and he could already take the delivery of the Thai food. It took him another thirty minutes to answer the door three more times, unpack the food and put it on a tray which he carried over to the coffee table. Ziva had already made herself comfortable, and the TV showed the entry loop of 'Tomorrow Never Dies'. He plopped down beside her and reached for the pizza carton.

'I ordered mushrooms and triple cheese, you okay with that?'

'Don't care, just pass me a slice', Ziva murmured and reached for the remote to start the movie. When the opening credits showed, they both leaned back, enjoying the pizza and each others company. Halfway through the movie they started arguing about the various actors portraying the illustrious James Bond – Ziva just wouldn't listen when he tried to explain why Daniel Craig would never be a real Bond – which lasted until long after both the food and movie were finished. Of course they had to watch 'Casino Royale' for the sake of comparison, and when they finally decided to call it a night, it was way past midnight. Gibbs would be furious.

While Ziva put away the food cartons, Tony dug through his closet, finally pulling out a pillow and blanket. He threw both on the sofa and motioned to his bedroom door.

'I take the couch, you take the bed.'

Ziva looked at the door and back to him.

'Don't you think that's a bit ridiculous?'

'Nuh-uh!' Tony crossed his arms. 'The book, Ziva, remember?'

His soon-to-be-girlfriend shook her head and laid her hand on the doorknob.

'If you insist.' She smiled. 'Good night, Tony.'

He watched as she disappeared into the dimly-lit room.

'Good night, Ziva', he replied. Grinning, he lay down on the sofa. She was right. In this case, rushing things would ultimately lead to a catastrophe. But now, after they finally had been forced to admit their feelings, they could start something that at least vaguely resembled a normal relationship. Of course, after that knock-up-incident, 'normal' was a rather relative term. But still, he couldn't deny the almost childish happiness he felt upon the thought of starting work tomorrow – which would mean taking step one on the road to a stable relationship. He _loved_ office flirting. And he would be all too happy to teach Ziva how to do it.


	3. Chapter 3

Hi guys :D Merry Christmas and a happy new year to you all!

Yeah, I know, this one's rather short, but really, who has much time to write around Christmas? I decided on the crime plot as a background story; care to tell me what you think about it (about what is already there, anyway)? ;)

Also, I changed the rating and genre accordingly; I don't know if that's really necessary and how much I'll go into detail about the case, but better safe than sorry.

Whatever, enjoy :)

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><p>'See? I told you we would be on time.'<p>

'Barely', Tony muttered, 'we'll have to run up the stairs. Ouch!'

He rubbed his shoulder where Ziva had punched him.

'I couldn't show up in the same clothes as yesterday, _with you_', she argued, 'it's code for 'guess what we did last night', and everyone knows the answer to that.'

They exited Tony's car and hurried toward the building. They still had two minutes left – enough to make it to the office before Gibbs could smack them for being late. No reason for Tony to complain, especially when _he_ was dressed in a clean suit and shirt. They flashed the security guy their IDs and headed to the elevators, where they bumped into McGee.

'Morning, Probie!'

'Morning, McGee', Ziva added, grinning. McGee suspiciously looked from one to the other.

'Are you two alright?'

'Sure. Why wouldn't we be?'

'Uhm.' McGee seemed to feel a little awkward. 'You haven't been talking in weeks, I just thought... you... maybe...'

He fell silent as they both smiled widely at him. Tony patted his shoulder.

'See, Probie, we are both grown-ups, and we got over it. Something you might still have to do. Grow up, I mean.'

McGee muttered something unrecognizable under his breath when the elevator door opened and they found themselves facing Gibbs.

'Finally.' He rushed past them, signaling them to follow. 'We've got a case. Some incident in the house of a Seaman in Maryland. Let's get going.'

They looked at each other, Tony rolling his eyes, and followed their boss. Ziva had noticed the wary look Gibbs had given them. She bit her lip; he suspected something. Ziva made a mental note to ask Tony about talking to Gibbs. Whatever they'd do about this relationship thing, she couldn't deny her pregnancy. Not only would she put the child in danger when she continued her field work, but they'd also get in trouble if they kept it a secret for too long. As much as she hated the thought of being confined to boring office tasks for months, she had to tell Gibbs. He'd decide what to do.

-o-

During the drive to the crime scene they barely talked; McGee seemed rather uncomfortable, Gibbs never lifted his gaze from the street, and Ziva was lost in her own thoughts. Tony suspected she was worrying about telling the others. He had seen how Gibbs had looked at them when he had noticed the change in Ziva's mood. He always was so observing. Most of the time it served them well, but just now Tony wished his boss was more one of the oblivious kind. Through the years, he had taken on the role of a surrogate father for Ziva. If he suspected something was seriously wrong, not just the usual 'DiNozzo, you are a jerk!' kind of wrong, he would step in. And Tony had to admit that he was a little afraid of _how_ Gibbs might step in. Not to mention Abby, if she got wind of it. Abby could be so damn scary if she wanted to. He wasn't really afraid of McGee, though. He could always take on McGee single-handedly. As long as he was sober and wouldn't risk getting his suit torn in the process. That would be a real nuisance, especially against McGee.

Thirty minutes later Gibbs parked the car in front of a small house with bright blue shutters. The local cops were already there, keeping the nosy spectators at bay and questioning the neighbours. The four of them walked right up to the Sheriff, who was talking to a tiny blonde. The woman looked shaken and was barely able to form a coherent sentence. She seemed to be about to burst into tears.

'…hands… there was… a ring… had it since college…'

The Sheriff patted her arm sympathetically and gently pushed her towards a woman in uniform, who lead her aside to sit on a nearby bench. The Sheriff turned toward Gibbs as they approached him.

'Finally. Must be the traffic, it's madness on the streets today. Anyway, I'm Sheriff Dawson.'

Gibbs flashed him his badge.

'Special Agent Gibbs, these are the Special Agents David, McGee and DiNozzo. What happened?'

Dawson scratched his head.

'I wish I knew what to make of it', he said, 'we don't get many murders here, it's a nice and quiet county. But this is just sick… I think it's best if you take a look at it yourself. It's Seaman Sean Donahue. The woman was his wife Amanda.'

The Sheriff turned and led the way up the porch steps. Puzzled, the team looked at each other before following him into the house.

-o-

The hallway was barely illuminated, the only light coming through the open front door and the archway to the right. To the left a door led into the bathroom, the archway opened to the small but clean kitchen. Clean except for the severed hand on the table.

Ziva felt her stomach turn, but followed the others into the room. On the table next to the hand lay an open parcel. Sheriff Dawson stayed by the doorway and motioned towards the package.

'It's in there.'

The three men moved forward and took a look into the carton. McGee immediately took a step back.

'Damn, this _is_ sick!'

Gibbs frowned upon the sight of whatever was in the package, and Tony looked disgusted. Cautiously, Ziva stepped beside him and peeked into the parcel.

She shouldn't have. In the very same moment that she saw what was in there, the smell of blood arose and instantly made her sick. She didn't even have time for an excuse before she bolted for the door. Hunched over the toilet bowl in the small bathroom she could barely hear her team-mates' concerned voices.

'Ziva, are you alright?'

It wasn't Tony but Gibbs who knelt beside her and gently rubbed her back when she finally stopped retching. Light-headed, but otherwise fine Ziva nodded.

'I'm okay', she murmured as Gibbs pulled her to her feet. 'Must be the eggs I had for breakfast.'

It was a weak excuse and she knew it, but thankfully Gibbs didn't say anything. He left the room and waited by the door as she rinsed her mouth and washed her face to clear her head. When she left the bathroom, Tony and Gibbs were there, while McGee already took pictures in the kitchen, shooting her a curious glance before returning to his task.

'You two, we need to talk when we get back to the office', Gibbs whispered, giving them both a stern look. Tony took Ziva's hand while she nodded hesitantly. 'Fine.'

Gibbs seemed satisfied for the moment and pointed to the door.

'No offence, but I think you should wait outside for us. Go question the wife.'

Without a word Ziva let go of Tony's hand and left the house, happy to be away from the stench of the dried blood. She hadn't had much trouble with morning sickness yet. Just a weird feeling every now and then, never leading to anything else than her skipping breakfast, which was why it had taken her so long to figure out what was wrong with her. Now it seemed like she had just discovered what triggered the sickness in her case. Blood. Great. Just what she needed now.

With a heavy sigh, Ziva stepped into the chilly morning air and prepared herself for questioning a woman who had just received a parcel containing the severed hands and head of her husband.


	4. Chapter 4

_Okay, lengthy author's note ahead. Consider yourself warned._

_First of all, no, I'm not abandoning any of my stories. I just had very little time for my own projects lately, that's all. I'm really sorry it took me so long to update this one, but I didn't like the early versions of this chapter, and it took me a while to come up with something I find good enough to upload. Anyway, just to let you know, if you read this, you make me really happy simply by coming back to read the new chapter :)_

_Second, I noticed that I didn't set a time frame for the story. And honestly, I'm not entirely sure when it's set. German broadcast of the show used to be… random at best. In the most current episodes I saw on TV, Ziva became a US citizen. Every now and then, I also watch some episodes online, and there she was already a special agent, so… I suppose it's set around the beginning of season 9, according to the episode guide. So, if you spot any obvious mistakes (dead people walking around, mention of something that hasn't happened yet, whatever), I'd appreciate if you'd let me know :) Also if I screwed up ranks, specific naval expressions, stuff like that. Odd as it is, I usually don't mind such minor mistakes in other stories, but when I write something, I want it to be as correct as possible. Perfectionism kinda sucks…_

_And last but not least, thanks for the reviews so far; that's what I live off when the budget is tight ;)_

_Alright, alright, I'll shut up now…_

_PS: In case you noticed the change in spelling: I'm currently trying to stick to British orthography. I used to confound British and American, but I'd really like to be consistent, so I picked British and try to stick to it, at least until I can safely switch from BrE to AmE without too much confusion..._

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><p>The frightened woman wasn't of much help, though. All she could tell Ziva was that she hadn't seen her husband in four days. He had been scheduled to help organise a special field training outside the base, so she hadn't expected him to be back for another couple days. Ziva jotted down the name of the one who had been in charge of the event. Mrs. Donahue had no answer at all when Ziva questioned her about potential enemies, and had another breakdown when she asked about his family. Rather uncomfortable, Ziva didn't protest when some neighbour led the woman away, trying to comfort her.<p>

By that time, the rest of the team, including Ducky who had arrived ten minutes after them, had finished in the house and returned outside. Her fellow agents eyed her suspiciously; McGee looked confused, Tony worried, and Gibbs grumpy. Still, out of habit - or fear; she wasn't quite sure which one it was with McGee – they didn't ask her about the incident. Instead, Gibbs motioned for them to follow him to the van.

"Anything from the wife?"

"Not much." Ziva skimmed her few notes. "A Lieutenant Cruz was in charge of the field training, he was the one Seaman Donahue received his orders from. She doesn't know of any quarrels her husband might have had or potential enemies. We should track down his unit and ask around there."

"Exactly. DiNozzo, you go with her. _After_ we talked."

_Dammit_. She had almost forgotten about that. "Uh, Gibbs, maybe we should-"

"No. Whatever it is, you shouldn't."

He unceremoniously shoved McGee into the van and banged the door shut. Ignoring the confused calls from inside, he turned around.

"I don't know what's going on between you two, but I won't tolerate anything that might upset the team. I need you all in your best working order. Understood?"

He didn't wait for them to answer; instead he stalked off to the driver's site, clearly irritated. Or downright furious. With him, it was hard to tell, even for Ziva.

"You know", Tony muttered warily behind her. "We could always run away to Vegas. Maybe he wouldn't find us there."

"You bet he would." Ziva sighed. "And it wouldn't be pleasant."

Avoiding any eye-contact with Gibbs, Ziva climbed into the car. She briefly felt Tony's hand on her back, but apparently, Gibbs had scared him a little, too, for he pulled his hand away as if he'd burnt it. For the whole ride, Ziva kept quiet, hands folded in her lap and trying to look like the epitome of virtue. Not exactly easy; but the situation was bad enough as it was. Better to wait until Gibbs had had the opportunity to chew them out. There was, after all, a slim chance that he would be okay with it. Well, maybe not okay, but perhaps he would at least look the opposite direction when they slipped in front of him. Until then...

"Boss?" McGee was peeking through the small window connecting front and back of the van. "Why are we going back to NCIS? Shouldn't we go and find Seaman Donahue's unit?"

"Yes, we should."

"Then why-"

"Oh, for God's sake, McGee!" Tony snapped. "Just shut up for five minutes, will you?"

"Same goes for you, DiNozzo!"

Tony flinched, but sank back into his seat. "Yes, Boss. Sorry, Boss."

They passed the remaining time in silence, with only an occasional complaint from McGee when they passed a corner. As soon as Gibbs had pulled into the garage, he stalled the engine and jumped out of the car.

"McGee, you call the base and find out where Seaman Donahue's unit is having this field training. Ziva, DiNozzo, _with me_."

Heads low, they followed him into the elevator. Ziva half expected him to lock them in the cabin until they had sorted things out, but he just glared at them until they stood as far away from each other as possible.

The _very_ uncomfortable silence lasted until Gibbs pushed them into an unoccupied conference room. The door fell shut with a bang before Gibbs locked it and turned to face them. Ziva felt the absurd urge to reach for her gun.

"So." Gibbs leaned across the table, staring at them with narrowed eyes. "You two have been acting like crazy the past few weeks. A few days of sulking – fine by me. But it's been starting to affect the whole team, and now you act like nothing happened. I'd very much like to know what is going on between you two and whether I can still rely on you to work together as field agents. If not," That was all but a threat now. "I need to take care of this situation." His look wandered expectantly between them. "So?"

Tony, for the first time in a long while at a loss for something to say, was muttering something undecipherable under his breath while Ziva racked her brain for the right words to say. But no matter how hard she thought, she couldn't think of any way to make this easier.

"After the Christmas party Tony and I slept together", she finally blurted out. "I was angry with him, but now we made up again. Also, I'm pregnant and we are trying to figure out what to to now."

Both men fell silent at once, Tony looking horrified, Gibbs something between utterly surprised and downright dumbfounded. He kept silent for far too long. Not good. Ziva tried hard to not just run and hide in Alaska.

After what seemed like an eternity, Tony cleared his throat. "Uhh, Boss, not that I'm in a hurry or something, but there is a dead guy waiting for us to catch his murderer and McGee-"

"McGee will be fine on his own for a while", Gibbs snapped, finding his tongue again. Slowly, he turned to face Ziva. "Say that again. You are _what_?"

"Uhh... pregnant?"

Seeing Gibbs stay so calm was actually even more scary than watching him throwing a fit. He didn't move an inch away from where he stood. "DiNozzo, what does rule #12 say?"

Tony gulped; Ziva had the distinct feeling that he was actually considering hiding behind _her_. How manly.

"No relationships with co-workers", he replied. The look on Gibbs face made Ziva go to the rescue.

"Actually, Gibbs, we are not technically in a relationship. It is not exactly necessary to procreate, so, strictly speaking, we didn't violate any of your rules." She reconsidered and added, "that we know of. You never said anything about a rule hat said 'no getting your co-workers pregnant'."

Gibbs' mouth opened and closed a few times. Finally, he rubbed his eyes, a pained look on his face. "If it hadn't been such a struggle to get you back, I'd strangle you."

Ziva felt Tony shift beside her, but she had very well noticed how Gibbs' expression had softened a little, even at these words. She patted Tony's hand and carefully rounded the table to stand beside Gibbs.

"I know you don't like apologies, Gibbs, so I won't make one. But..."

She hesitated a second. It wasn't easy to admit, even to Gibbs, who was very much like a father to her – or maybe especially because he was like a father to her. "I think I need your help with this. I... I don't know how to handle this here, and with the cases... And to be honest, we were thinking about that rule of yours, and how we could... deal with it. Please, Gibbs. I need some advice here."

Gibbs was quicker than Tony. It was next to impossible for her to hide anything from him – it was a miracle she had managed it this long. Now he didn't waste a second to pull her into a hug that rivalled those of Abby. She didn't need to tell him that she was scared – he knew. For a split second, Ziva thought about how different this would bee, had it been Eli instead of Gibbs. Shuddering, she quickly dismissed that thought. It was all she could manage not to cry as Gibbs patted her back.

"You know, I'm still mad at you", Gibbs murmured, ignoring Tony completely for the moment. "But don't think I'm not gonna help you, kid."

He gently pushed her away and turned to Tony, who was looking awkwardly at the ceiling. "DiNozzo, with us."

Tony hesitantly joined them, and Gibbs motioned for the table. "Sit. We need to discuss this. Can as well do it now and here."

Ziva and Tony both took a seat at the table while Gibbs leaned against a sideboard, eyeing them sternly.

"First I need to know this: Do you two honestly think that you are still fit to work together in the same team?"

Their answer came in unison. "Yes."

Whatever doubt Ziva had had about this, now that Gibbs asked so bluntly, she was completely sure she could handle it. Thinking about it, the thought of being transferred to another part of NCIS very much appalled her.

"Good. Because I can't have it that my team focusses more on their petty little quarrels than on actual cases." Gibbs crossed his arms. "Second. Ziva, you will not go out in the field any more."

Immediately, Ziva was half standing, ready to protest, as Gibbs raised his hand. "Listen. You can go to crime scenes as usual, but only if you can handle it. Another episode like this morning, and you'll stay here. When we need to question someone, you won't go alone, and when we are going after suspects, you will stay here. Don't even try. I won't let you take any risks. Third, and now listen very carefully, both of you. Rule # 12..." He paused, and Ziva could have sworn he was actually enjoying this now. "...will be suspended for you. Frankly, I'm surprised it took you so long. And in this case... well, the damage is done, and now you can as well go all the way. However, if this is disrupting the order within the team, I will consider having one of you transferred. Understood?"

Slowly, Ziva nodded, now as dumbfounded as Gibbs had looked a few minutes ago. She had hoped, but she hadn't expected him to be so... understanding. A quick glance revealed that Tony was grinning like an idiot. Gibbs rolled his eyes, then sighed.

"Good. Remember, this won't excuse you from giving your best. I don't want to hear complaints. McGee doesn't count, by the way. But if you let your work slide, we will need to have a word."

He waited again for their hasty nod, then waved his hand in an impatient gesture. "Now get back to work. I think I need a drink right now."

"Thanks, Boss." Tony rose quickly, pulling Ziva with him. "That's great, Boss."

They hurried for the door, but as Tony opened it, they heard Gibbs call out for them.

"Ziva? DiNozzo?"

They stopped and half turned back to Gibbs who was now behind them. He didn't say anything, just raised his hands and smacked them both on the backs of their heads.

"That is for being stupid in the first place!"

"Sorry, Boss", they muttered in unison; but as they watched his back as he disappeared around a corner, no doubt in sear for something stronger than coffee, they couldn't help but share a satisfied grin. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad after all.


	5. Chapter 5

_Hello again, and thanks for staying with me so long :)_

_So I took a break from fanfic for a little event called Camp NaNoWriMo. But after fifty thousand words in thirty days I figured I deserved a break from my novel as well. Aliens are driving me crazy right now..._

_By the way, am I the only one who thinks of Hannibal Lecter whenever Tony says something like "You smell of ocean and shea butter"...? oO_

_...maybe it is just me. I clearly watch too many movies._

_Anyway; Gibbs is not the only one to hear the big news. But he is certainly the most frightening to face. Or is he?__  
><em>

_-o-  
><em>

_Also, thanks to anon Monique who pointed out to me that I made some mistakes regarding the way Ziva speaks. Now that you mentioned it, I noticed, and I hope I did better this time ;)  
><em>

* * *

><p>"Wasn't so bad after all."<p>

"Well, we _are_ still alive."

They were lingering in an empty hallway, unwilling go back just yet. Sure, Gibbs had taken the news better than they'd both thought. Tony still wasn't quite sure, but he could have sworn that he'd seen something like genuine joy in Gibbs' expression. That made it a little easier, at least. But only just a little.

"Should we tell the others now, too?" Ziva looked a bit worried at the thought. "We have to tell them at some point, I guess..."

Chuckling, Tony pulled her close. "You could try wearing very loose-fitting shirts. Or dresses."

"You do not _dare_ putting me in a maternity dress", she growled. "Unless _you_ are willing to wear one, too." She sighed and scratched her head. "But you are right. We need to tell them. Especially Abby. If she hears from someone else..."

Tony swallowed hard. "Yeah... she does claim to be able to commit murder without a trace, after all." He grinned again. "And I think she might only be too happy to go shopping with you. Little socks with skulls, a Baby Cthulhu t-shirt..."

"Oh, please do not let her." It was almost funny hearing Ziva whine about shopping. "It is bad enough I have to buy that stuff at all."

With a frown, Tony looked down at Ziva. "But... aren't you happy at all?"

"Honestly? I am not sure." She leaned away from him, looking rather uncomfortable. "I think I still need to wrap my hands around this whole situation."

"Your head."

"What?"

"Never mind. It's okay, though. It's just... I think I'm kinda happy. A little, at least. Now that I'm no longer busy being afraid of Gibbs."

Ziva laughed and slipped out of his arms. "He took it well, did he not?"

"Better than I'd thought." He leaned against the wall, eyeing Ziva carefully. "You think the others will take it as well as he did?"

She bit on her lip and nervously played with her pendant. "I hope so." She took a deep breath. "We can as well tell them now and get it over with."

She didn't look too happy; in fact Tony got the eerie feeling that she was about to run away. He didn't like it the least.

"Hey, come on. It won't be so bad." He made a face. "Until we get to Abby, maybe."

-o-

Ten minutes later, McGee gaped at them as if someone just whacked him over the head. He was silent for several moments, the he slightly shook his head.

"You're _what_?"

"Having a baby," Tony repeated. "And keep your voice down, Probie."

"Sorry." McGee briefly looked over his shoulder. "Did that happen at the Christmas party?"

"Not _at_ the party." Ziva sighed. "Really McGee, I would appreciate it if you kept this to yourself."

"Sure." McGee frowned. "But Abby will be furious if you don't tell her."

"Exactly. That is why we are going to tell her personally." Ziva made a face. "If you hear someone scream in the basement, that will probably be her."

McGee barely kept back a laugh at this remark. A glare from Tony quickly silenced him, though. "Fine. I won't tell anybody." He grinned again. "Congratulations, anyway."

He gave a mock salute, then quickly ducked out of reach of Tony's arm. He waved and disappeared behind the corner. Ziva stared at him until he was gone, then abruptly, she turned to Tony.

"Is he mocking us?"

Tony looked at her warily. "I'm afraid to answer that question."

"Fine. Then do not answer."

She hesitated; as far as she was concerned, this whole baby business was little more than an accident, an unexpected inconvenience. To Tony, however, it seemed to mean more than that already. Still, it felt best to do this without him.

"Would you mind if I tell Abby... alone?"

"What?" The look of hurt on his face went straight through her heart. "Why?"

"It has got nothing to do with you," Ziva quickly assured him. "I just feel that, with Abby, this is going to be sort of a... a girl thing. Do you understand?"

"Girl thing? Oh, I'd really like to watch- ow!" He rubbed his ribs where Ziva had nudged him – maybe slightly harder than she had originally intended. "Fine then. Go and tell her. I'll wait and go through the photos of the crime scene with McGee. _Someone's_ gotta work around here." He just so managed to duck out of Ziva's reach and grinned. "See you around, sunshine."

Now on her own, Ziva slowly made her way to the elevator. It might be better to catch Abby alone, but certainly not any easier. She honestly wished that the elevator ride was longer; it seemed like only a moment had passed when the doors opened and she reluctantly stepped out and into Abby's lab.

Abby was in front of the computer, typing, and did not look up upon Ziva's entrance. "It's just been twenty minutes, I didn't find anything yet!"

"I am not here about the case."

Abby spun around, evidently surprised. "Ziva! I didn't expect you down here." She eyed Ziva closely, then hurried over to her. "Is something wrong? You look like something is wrong."

"Actually, I need to tell you something," Ziva confessed. "Do you have a minute to spare?"

"Of course." With crossed arms, Abby sat down on the edge of the table. "What is it?"

Ziva took a deep breath and braced herself for Abby's reaction. "I am not good at honey-coating things, so..." Another deep breath. "Remember the Christmas party last year?"

"Sure. That was when you..." Abby stopped, clearing her throat. "Well, when you and Tony... went home together."

"Yes. For the record, we went home together just this once," Ziva added. "But apparently, once was enough for... this."

"This?"

"For... him to get me pregnant."

With bated breath, Ziva waited for Abby's reaction. She did not have to wait long. One second, Abby was sitting on the table, mouth hanging open, and the next she threw herself at Ziva with a shriek, hugging her so tightly Ziva had trouble breathing.

"Oh my god, really? That is so great!"

Abby pushed Ziva away, holding her at arm's length. Her wide grin slightly worried Ziva.

"A little Ziva! Or a little Tony, though that would be a bit exhausting... But we can go baby shopping together, and furnish the kid's room and- oh, you don't have a kid's room! You need a new place! And a baby shower, of course, so-"

"Abby..."

"-you will have everything you need, then you can-"

"Abby!"

At Ziva's snap, Abby fell silent. She looked the slightest bit hurt, so Ziva hurried to continue.

"I did not say that I am not happy to... to go baby shopping with you." She all but rolled her eyes at this. "But right now, I am not sure how I feel about all this, not yet. So..."

She trailed off, not quite sure how to go on.

"Oh. Of course." Abby looked a bit happier again, but her enthusiasm seemed a bit dampened. "How long have you known?" She narrowed her eyes. "Honestly, Ziva, if you found out and didn't come straight to me I'm gonna be _very_ unhappy."

Ziva swallowed hard. For a second, she wished she had brought Tony. At least she would have been able to hide behind his back.

"To be honest, we have told Gibbs first." She already regretted saying this when she saw Abby's eyes become little more than slits. "On second thought, I think you are a bit scarier than he is..."

"Only Gibbs?" Abby demanded. "No-one else?"

Thinking it safer to lie this time, Ziva hastily assured Abby that Gibbs was the only one beside her who knew. "I figured you would want to know first, but... you know Gibbs."

Abby eased back against the table, and a smile spread across her face. "Sure. And I forgive you for not telling me first. But now you do have to tell me something, and you better be honest." Her face fell, just a little, but Ziva could see worry and concern in her eyes. "You don't look too happy. Are you alright?"

There it was, the reason why she had wished to talk to Abby alone. Gibbs would understand if she told him, and even Tony might, if she took the time to tell _and_ explain. But Abby... she always seemed to know when something was wrong, if not what and why.

"I always thought I wanted to have children some day," she began. "I wanted a family. But I never really thought about what that would _mean_ until now."

She sighed, barely able to keep herself from crying. Damn hormones.

"Tony and I, we are NCIS. I am ex-Mossad. All the things that could happen, to us or the child... you know what happened to Gibbs' family. What happened to agent Lee's sister. Just because they had those jobs. And I am afraid something will happen to my children, too, because I do what I do." She rubbed her eyes, too stubborn to let the tears fall. "How can I be happy when I am so scared?"

"Oh, Ziva."

There it was, the Abby hug that managed to take some of her tension away just like that. Granted, it felt a little like she was suffocating while the spikes of Abby's choker barely missed her face. Still, he was glad Abby seemed to understand her worries – and, most importantly, didn't try to belittle them by saying it wasn't as dangerous as she thought or somesuch nonsense. She knew it was, she knew how Ziva felt about it, and she knew there was nothing more to say about it until something actually happened - so hopefully not for a long time.

Finally, Abby pulled away, albeit without letting go of Ziva.

"You know we won't let anything happen to your kid, don't you? There will be plenty of uncles and aunts to take care of her."

Ziva managed to get a shaky smile on her face. "I do not know whether it will be a boy or a girl."

"Oh, it has to be a girl," Abby repeated, looking very confident. "The mini-Ziva Tony deserves."

"The mini-Ziva he deserves? Was that a compliment or an insult?"

"It was compliment, of course. At least for you," Abby assured her, grinning. "For him, that's a different matter. He will have to keep up with two of your kind when he can barely keep up with you."

"Not for long anymore," Ziva grumbled. "In a few months I will be fat and waddle around like a duck."

"Which gives you an excuse to let him do all the hard work." Abby clapped her hands, then grabbed Ziva's arm and pulled her towards the elevator. "Come on, let's find Tony, I need to congratulate him! And McGee, so you can tell him!"

Abby was so ridiculously excited that all Ziva could do was follow her lead – and pray that McGee had the wits to keep his mouth shut and play surprised. She so did not want to be there if Abby found out he had known before her...

* * *

><p><em>Just to let you guys know, this time I can't even promise to <em>try_ writing another chapter within the next month. I'm writing my thesis, I'm in the process of moving, and trying to get the paperwork done I need to start studying at a new university. So the next chapter won't be up until I got all this out of my way - hopefully by early September. Wish me luck._


	6. Chapter 6

_Woohoo, thesis finished, and even a few weeks early!_

_...yes, I'm one of_ those_ people who write their papers in two days and their thesis in two weeks... now I'm just hoping I didn't screw this up royally..._

_Whatever. Enough of my unexciting life, here, have a new chapter :)_

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><p>It wasn't the least surprising how quickly Tony focused on the whole office flirting affair after they had told the rest of the team about their... situation. Ziva should have expected him to be pretty forward, just exactly <em>how<em> forward he was made her a little uncomfortable at first. He launched a full program, starting with a rather polite opening of doors for her and ending with him trying to grab her butt every time she turned her back on him. Her threats of forcefully taking away his family jewels if he wouldn't be more discreet did little to change his... outgoing behaviour. After three days everyone on the floor knew about the one exception to Rule Number 12, and after a week, Ziva had the distinct feeling that there was no-one in the entire Navy Yard who didn't know.

Gibbs seemed to find the whole situation rather amusing. After the initial surprise – Did she dare say shock? – he had apparently decided to act as if nothing was wrong at all. Well, technically, it wasn't exactly wrong, but Ziva would have expected him to act more... _Gibbs_. Yet, to innocent bystanders, he probably seemed completely oblivious to what was going on in his own team.

Not that this attitude convinced anyone. With Tony managing to spike every single conversation with innuendoes, Abby excitedly chattering about all kinds of crazy things the baby would _absolutely_ _need_ during lunch and McGee never really able to stop grinning whenever he saw them together, it was hard to miss what was going on. Ducky's reaction had been a real relief. He had just congratulated them and wished them luck on their "journey trough a wonderful and fulfilling life together", as he had put it. Palmer had been a bit more excited, had first hugged Ziva and then, after a cautious glance and a shrug, Tony as well. After a few seconds, though, he had realised what he had done, blushed and turned his attention back to the upper half of a corpse, mumbling something about inappropriate work ethics.

All in all, it wasn't as bad as they had both feared. Which just encouraged Tony to be even less subtle about his intentions whenever he was around Ziva.

"Say, Tony, is there nothing you can occupy yourself with for a while?"

"Oh, of course there is, Agent David. I'm doing it right now."

_It_ apparently consisted of drinking coffee, ogling her backside, and throwing the occasional traditional paper ball at her to get her attention – only to whistle suggestively and proceed to munch on a pastry he had gotten who knew where.

Running out of patience, Ziva slammed her hand on her keyboard, messing up a whole paragraph of her report.

"I thought you still had a report to write? Just like everyone else?"

"I finished it while you were busy hunting down the last piece of carrot cake in the building." He made a face. "Seriously, who eats _carrot_ _cake_?"

"I do." Ziva returned her attention to her own case report. "I was actually planning to make some for dinner, so you can either take it like a man or eat at your own place for a change."

"Damn. I was hoping I could get some pasta."

"Well, I am sorry to crush your hopes, Tony, but I am having carrot cake for dinner. By the way, you need to pick up some carrots on your way home."

"Why me?"

Her glare made him wince. "Because this is your child as well, and it wants carrots. And do not try to get off the hook by claiming you have too much work. You obviously do not."

Mumbling something about the proper use of birth control, Tony finished his coffee and got up. "Fine then. It's almost five anyway. If Gibbs complains, _you_ can tell him I'm busy buying carrots to avoid sleeping on the couch." He slipped into his jacket. "You need anything else?"

Ziva paused typing, thinking for a second. "You know, some chocolate pudding would be nice, and we need onions and tomatoes for tomorrow's lunch. Oh, and I was thinking about making cupcakes, so would you mind bringing some frosting and toppings?"

With a sigh, Tony scribbled down a grocery list before picking up his bag. He kissed the top of her head, mumbling a quick "See ya later!", and was gone before Ziva could think of anything else for him to bring along.

After he was gone, a chuckle from McGee made Ziva look up again. "What?"

"Are you sure you didn't elope and got married in Vegas like, years ago?"

"We did not. Why would anyone think that?"

"Because you behave like an old married couple, that's why." McGee rolled his eyes. "You kind of have been for years." A short pause, an uncomfortable look. "You know, we even had an office bet about how long it would take you two to finally, err, get a room..."

Ziva narrowed her eyes, not taking her gaze off her teammate. "Really. You had. And who exactly won?"

McGee gulped, not daring to move. "Stan. From the mail room. He was closest. He said last September." He twitched nervously. "Annie from accounting came in second. She said next Thanksgiving. Agent Cooper was third with New Year's Eve 2013." He managed a rather shaky grin. "You two are quite popular."

"Oh, I am so delighted." Ziva resisted the urge to pass Tony's paper ball on to McGee. "Just out of morbid curiosity: When did you think we would _get a room_?"

The red creeping up McGee's neck promptly seemed to be sprinting towards his ears. "Errm, I don't think you really wanna know..."

"Know what, McGee?"

They both jumped in their seats as Gibbs once again managed to appear out of thin air. Suddenly, Ziva was very busy finishing her report while McGee desperately tried to string words together in a coherent sentence.

"Uhm, Boss. We... I was just... explaining... it was Barb- Agent Torres' idea, anyway..."

She could practically hear Gibbs roll his eyes. "Ziva?"

She didn't lift her gaze from the keyboard as she answered. "Apparently, some agents and the staff made a bet about how long it would take me and Tony to indulge in passionate sexual excesses."

Now it was Gibbs' turn to choke on his coffee while McGee's face was turning a fabulous shade of scarlet. Ziva quickly saved her report, hit the print button and switched off her screen.

"I am finished. If I am not needed anymore, I am very much looking forward to a nice, quiet and murder-less evening. You will find the report on your desk tomorrow morning, Boss. McGee."

It was truly amazing just how long one little sentence could keep two grown men silent. What was even more hilarious was McGee trying to save the situation by yelling after her that he "didn't say anything about sexual excesses...!" ...when she was already slipping into the elevator. What a nice way to end a hard work day. So much better that mutilated corpses.

Although, on second thought, facing Gibbs again the next morning probably wouldn't be quite as hilarious. Oh, well. She'd worry about that later. Right now, the only thing she wanted was some nice, juicy carrot cake, a coke and a nice book to relax a little.

-o-

Well, you can't have everything, Ziva mused as she watched two apparently stoned-out-of-their-minds guys on the screen desperately searching for a lost car, stumbling from one freak situation into the next. Tony had called this a 'comedy classic', but she still suspected him to mock her on purpose by mercilessly exploiting her next to non-existent knowledge about movie history.

"How can they get tattoos when they obviously have been absolutely hammered at that time? Are there no laws against that?"

"Why? They're grown men, they should know when to stop drinking. Or... whatever _they_ have been doing." He helped himself to another mouthful of popcorn. "An' you kno', it'f juft gett'n weirder from 'ere."

Rolling her eyes, Ziva munched on a leftover carrot. "I do not understand how this can be a comedy classic."

"It'f the fubtext," Tony tried to explain around a mouthful of popcorn. He swallowed hard. "You have to read between the lines, see how they make fun of popular culture, tropes and clichés... it's actually a quite sophisticated movie, if you think about it."

"She just swallowed a popsicle whole!" Ziva exclaimed. "How is that sophisticated?"

"It's... sophisticated sexual innuendo?" Tony suggested, immediately followed by a not-so-subtle innuendo involving his hand and her upper body, resulting in both of them missing the next scene completely.

"Uhm... I think I just missed a vital point of the story," Ziva mumbled, a little out of breath. Tony just grinned and pushed her a little deeper into the sofa cushions.

"Oh, I think we can watch that scene again... some other night."

"Do you not think it is a little too early for that?" she asked when he started nibbling at her neck. His answer came in a rather attractive purr.

"We have been officially dating for almost two weeks. We have already been holding hands. I even got asked how I managed to score 'such a smokin' hot girlfriend'. I really don't think it's too early for first base."

That last one threw her momentarily off the track. "Are we playing some sort of weird baseball game?"

"What?" Tony's laugh was equally composed of amusement and the verbal equivalent of rolling his eyes. "It means kissing. It's an analogy."

"I hate Americannnnmhmmm..."

She very quickly forgot about the annoying Americanisms. Instead, she focused on her newly-acquired live-in boyfriend and the _very_ interesting things he was currently doing with her body. And a very tiny part of her brain whispered to her that this was probably second base already...

Not that she cared much anyway.

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><p><em>I know, rather short, but the next one should be longer again. If you liked this anyway, maybe you could take the time to drop me a line; because, you know, deep inside every author lives a ravenous little creature craving feedback like the writer herself craves coffee, and it feels sooo good to be able to give that wicked little thing what it wants ;)<em>


	7. Chapter 7

_Hi guys :)_

_Again, sorry it took so long (this is getting repetitive...), but this chapter screwed with me a bit. I had an outline for it, but two paragraphs in it went right out the window and things started getting out of hand._

_Anyway, I can't say I'm displeased with the outcome, but it's not at all what I had planned. I hope it turned out decent enough, though._

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><p>After a few weeks, things settled down a little. It was a slow period, corpse-wise, leaving them with little more than a few beatings, a hit-and-run and lots of more or less boring desk work. Unfortunately, finally having a regular work schedule meant that Ziva couldn't put off finding a new place any longer. Tony had kept pestering her about moving in together, making a point of how she would be able to get a full night's sleep every now and then if he was there, not to mention she would have unlimited access to his vast collection of classic movies to 'broaden her horizon'.<p>

After endless discussions, two loud arguments and a screaming match in the middle of the night, she had finally given in – if only to keep her nerves intact. Which meant that they had a slightly bigger budget to work with – especially since Tony had promised to reduce his purchases of DVDs and expensive Italian suits. But it also meant a lot more demands of the new place. Tony insisted on a house with a yard in one of the suburbs. She preferred staying closer to the city in a three- or four-room-apartment. He wanted a special room for movie nights, she was looking for a big kitchen. Second bathroom, front porch. Fireplace, breakfast nook.

"Okay, this is getting ridiculous, Tony. We need to make a definitive list."

Tony eyed her suspiciously over his cup of coffee. "A list? Kama Sutra or Tantra?"

"Tony!" She crumpled up a page of the real estate section. "I am serious. We have to make a list of things we can not live without. For the new place."

"Oh. That kind of list." He put down his coffee, leaning back in his chair. "How long?"

She thought about that for a second. "How about we each put down three things we definitely want, and five optional ones. That way we can narrow down the selection, but still have some fiddle room?"

"Wiggle room. It's... wiggle." A glare made Tony snap his mouth shut. "Never mind. I'm serious now. Really. See how serious I am?"

Ziva couldn't maintain her scowl for long. With a sigh that came close to a chuckle, she reached for a notepad and a pen. "Fine, Mr. I'm-So-Serious. What is it _you_ want?"

He grinned widely at her. "Hey, was that a Batman reference?"

"Maybe." She scribbled down a crooked 'Dreamhouse' on the paper, then frowned at herself. What was it with her and this cheesiness lately? Looking up again, she found Tony staring out the window. "So?"

He didn't answer for a while, still looking into a rather gloomy spring morning. Eventually, he leaned forward, seeking her gaze. "A garden. We need a backyard, where we can set up a swing, play catch and have barbecues. I don't care if it's a shared garden, but we _need_ one."

"A garden." Another scribble. "Okay. What else?"

"A big family room with a fireplace."

"That's two."

"Not if it's in the same room," he argued. "If the fireplace is in another room, it's two. If it's the same, it's one." He smiled. "You can get a double option, too."

Ah, _now_ they were talking. "Fine, then. I want a huge kitchen with a breakfast nook in an alcove."

A raised eyebrow was added to the smile. "Now, that's technically three."

"Are you arguing with me, Tony?"

"God, no! No sane man would argue with a preg-" He held his tongue just in time. "Uhh... an ex-Mossad agent who can kick ass under any and all circumstances."

"I see." She gave him another sharp look before scribbling down her first point. "You still have one left."

"One? All right. I want a second kid's room."

The pen clattered on the table and rolled over the edge. "You want _what?_"

For a second, she felt like her breakfast might decide to book a return trip. Was he _crazy_?

"Uhm, Ziva, your face is green. Why is your face green?"

"Why is my...? What are you _thinking_? You did this to me once already, are you expecting me to go through this _again_?"

"Hey, it wasn't just my fault!" he defended himself. "Besides, I didn't mean to... you know... I'm not saying this is set in stone or something. All I'm saying is that, maybe, once we got used to all this, we might decide to... do it on purpose for once?"

"Tony... you... do you not think you have gotten a wrong impression here?"

"What should be wrong about this?" He stood up, toying with his coffee mug. "Come on, let's face it. I had a thing for you for years, and you said you felt the same about me. We are moving in together and having a baby. It's just... this feels right, you know? As in, this is what I want for my life. I admit, I wasn't really aware of this until now... but can't you feel this, too? That it's the right thing to do, that this might be _it_?"

"_It_? Tony, I just figured out how to handle this one situation. How could you possibly expect me to plan ahead for the rest of my life?"

No, this didn't feel right at all. It was like... how did Tony call this... Bizarro World, with their roles switched. Wasn't _she_ the responsible one, the one who planned ahead instead of getting caught up in the moment? And now _he_ was talking about settling down, planning an actual, normal family life? What on earth was going on here?

"Ziva, please!"

Was that her imagination, or did he sound desperate now?

"All I'm saying is that I want you to consider the possibility! What we have here... it's still so fresh, I know that. But come on, we _could_ do better. Like, make this whole family thing work so well we _both_ want to... expand, you know?"

He blinked at her, obviously waiting for an answer. When she didn't say anything, he sighed and put down the mug.

"All right. I'll... leave you to your breakfast. Just... think about it. Please."

He left the room without another word, leaving Ziva alone with her thoughts. Breakfast wasn't really an option anymore.

Right up until this moment, she'd had no idea he was that serious about this. About them. She wouldn't have gone so far as to say he did all this just because he thought it was the right thing to do, but she'd never suspected he did it because _he felt like it was the right thing for them_. And there was a major difference right there.

Angrily, she kicked the pen towards the closed kitchen door. How _dare_ he drop this bomb on her an then just walk off, leaving her to sort out the mess he had created?

It wasn't like she didn't want all this. Still, for her, the main reason they had rushed things the way they had was the child. If she weren't pregnant, if that night hadn't had any consequences besides some very annoying office gossip, would they still be together now?

After staring blankly at the wall for a few minutes, Ziva had to admit she didn't have an answer to that. Everything had been possible. Maybe they'd just acted like it never happened. Maybe they would've agreed on some sort of secret friends-with-benefits deal. And maybe, just maybe, they would've realised they just _worked_ together, and would've even broken Gibbs' rules on purpose. But now, with the baby involved, there was no way of telling what could have happened. She was left on her own to figure out how this would affect the rest of her life. Their life. If it even _could_ turn 'her life' into 'their life'.

A knock on the door startled her. Before she could yell at Tony for being annoying, he had poked his head in, a grim look on his face.

"Sorry to disturb you, but Gibbs just called. Remember Seaman Donahue? Well, another navy wife just called. She got a package today."

"Oh no." The argument and her doubts got pushed far into the back of her mind. "Get the keys, I will be ready in a minute." As he turned to grab his gear, she called after him. "But do not think this discussion is over yet!"

-o-

The scenario felt like a déjà-vu. Small house, Navy background, young married couple – one of whom was dead, cut up and packed in a box mailed to his wife. McGee was already there, taking pictures and looking slightly sleep-deprived. It was Saturday, after all. Not that this meant much when you were on call for cases like this.

Gibbs looked more awake than McGee, but that might be due to an obscene amount of caffeine in his system. Who knew.

As they entered the house, Gibbs stood up from where he had crouched beside a cardboard box and turned to greet them.

"Ziva. DiNozzo."

"Boss."

Ziva quickly took in their surroundings, while Tony already peered into the box on the floor. "What happened?"

"Besides the very obvious murder?" Tony shrunk a little under Gibbs' glare. "Mrs. Wallace received a package this morning containing certain parts of her husband's body. Hands and head. Just like last time."

Ziva carefully bent over the box, cautious not to breathe too deeply. No need to push her luck. Again, there was nothing in the box besides the head and hands, lying on a bed of styrofoam chips.

"Where is the woman now?"

Gibbs pointed towards a half closed door. "In the living room. She started crying every time we tried to ask her a question." He glanced at Ziva. "Maybe you should try talking to her."

With a little huff, Ziva leaned away from the box. "You know I am not good at being sensitive, Gibbs."

Wait, was that a chuckle? "Maybe not, but you _can _be, if yo really try. Besides, she may have calmed down enough for you to get an answer or two."

Ignoring his statement, Ziva passed the crime scene and entered the living room, where a very young-looking woman sat on a sofa, face red and puffy from crying. On the table lay an open photo album, showing pictures of a wedding.

"Mrs. Wallace?" She flashed her badge at the woman. "I am Agent David of NCIS. Do you mind if I sit down?"

The only answer was a small jerk of the head. Trying not to startle the widow, Ziva sat down in an armchair, close enough for conversation, but so close as to cause discomfort.

"Mrs. Wallace, I am so sorry for your loss."

The woman nodded, not taking her eyes off the pictures. "Thank you."

Ziva leaned a little closer, taking a better look at the pictures. "Your wedding?"

Another nod. "Yes. Just last August. It was such a beautiful day."

"You were a very beautiful bride."

"Andy said that, too. The most beautiful bride in the solar system." A pause. "He was into that whole Star Trek thing. Aliens and such, you know?"

Unsure what to say, Ziva just gave a vague noise of acknowledgement. The woman went on, her voice distant.

"He wanted to be an astronaut, you know, but they didn't sign him up for the program. He had asthma as a kid. It didn't bother him anymore, but they didn't want to take the risk."

"I am sure he would have made a good astronaut."

Mrs. Wallace's small smile was immediately erased when she burst into tears once more. Sobbing into a tattered paper tissue, she tried hard to get out a complete sentence.

"H-he was s-such a good man, m-my Andy! He s-said it didn't m-matter, and that w-way, h-he could at least s-see the k-kids ev-very day." For a few seconds, she was unable to speak. "W-We were h-having a ba... a baby, you know? And n-now he's gone!"

It nearly broke Ziva's heart to watch the woman cry. For a second, she could almost imagine what it must be like. One day you were starting a family, and the next your life fell apart just like that. It was all she could do not to start crying herself. Instead, she shifted over onto the sofa, in an attempt to comfort Mrs. Wallace. As soon as she was close, the other woman threw her arms around Ziva, and sobbed into her shoulder. Bewildered, Ziva just sat there for a moment, until she finally managed to lay an arm around Mrs. Wallace's back and let her cry.

It took a lot of patience, some coaxing on Ziva's part and shooing away McGee as well as Tony (the latter twice, the second time with a murderous glare) for Ziva to get the answers she needed. By the time she felt comfortable letting go of the widow, who was still hiccuping, but otherwise seemed surprisingly composed, Ziva realised they had been there for more than an hour already. Both women stood up; Mrs. Wallace threw a thankful glance at Ziva.

"Thank you", she whispered. "For this. I... I haven't lived here for long, I wouldn't have know where to go with all this..."

"You are welcome, Mrs. Wallace. I can not imagine how hard this is for you." She hesitated only for the briefest of moments. "My boyfriend and I are having a baby as well. To imagine how I would feel if this happened to me..." She cleared her throat, not wanting to upset the widow any further. "I am sorry. What I was trying to say is, if you need someone to talk to, you can call me any time you want."

This time, the widow even managed a shaky smile for a second or two. "That's wonderful for you two. I wish you two well. And thank you. For your offer, I mean."

"Any time."

They left the room to find the hallway empty. The evidence had already been removed, only a few stray styrofoam chips lay scattered on the floor. From the sound of it, the team were waiting out front by the cars. Ziva turned around to Mrs. Wallace.

"Are you all right on your own? Do you want me to call someone for you?"

The widow shook her head. "No. I... I will be fine. Given... given the circumstances." She frowned. "Would it be okay to leave town and visit my mother? I... I realise I might be a... a suspect." She nearly choked on the word, but kept going. "But I could really use her company right now."

"Where does your mother live?"

"Martinsburg, West Virginia."

"Maybe you could give us some time to go through the... evidence, so we can rule you out, and I call you then?"

"Okay." Mrs. Wallace leaned against the door frame. "Thank you again, Agent David."

"Good bye, Mrs. Wallace."

Ziva wasn't entirely comfortable leaving the woman alone, but she had given her her card and, on the spur of the moment, scribbled her private phone number on it as well. There was nothing more she could do.

Except catch the bastard who had taken away her husband and her child's father.

Outside, the others were already waiting. All three men looked relieved when they saw her.

"You've been in there for quite a while", Tony mused, eyeing her suspiciously. Ziva just glared at him.

"You try getting your spouse murdered and then answer 'just a couple of questions'", she snapped, snatching the donut he had just been about to bite into. "And do not tease me with pastries when I do not have one myself."

"Uhh, Ziva, are you all right?" Suspicion was replaced by worry, but right now, Ziva wasn't in the mood for either.

"Of course I am, why do you ask?"

Before Tony could answer, Gibbs interrupted them both. "Cut it out, you two. Ziva, what did she say?"

With a sigh, Ziva started summarising the widow's answers. "She said he had probably been gone since yesterday morning. She thought he was at work, but he never made it there. His boss tried to call, but she was out back and did not hear the phone. When he did not come back after work, she assumed he was out with some of his friends. He did that once or twice a week, so she did not wonder until he did not come home all night. She was ready to call the police when the delivery guy rang and she got the package. That is when she called NCIS."

"So it's basically the same thing like the Donahue case", McGee commented. "Young married couple, no children, husband disappears and returns twenty-four hours later. More or less."

"Actually, they were having a baby." Ziva wasn't even aware she had said that out loud until she noticed the men staring at her. "What?"

"Nothing", Tony replied hastily. "Nothing, really."

"That is an awful lot of nothing, Tony."

"That is first and foremost an awful lot of work." Gibbs was already halfway around the car. "Come on, let's go. We have to catch this guy, and soon. I think we might be dealing with a serial killer here."

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><p><em>I can't help but think I left some huge mistake in there, but I can't find anything... weird.<em>

_Sooo... care to leave me a review? I'll even leave a plate of cookies in the review window ;)_


	8. Chapter 8

_w00t, two months? oO I honestly didn't realise it's been that long..._

_So I won NaNo *weeee* :D Which at least gives me an excuse for one of those two months. The other one was most likely eaten by Skyrim and Guild Wars. Well, crap._

_*achem* Never mind my babbling, here, have another chapter :)_

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><p>They all knew Gibbs was most likely right. One strange murder – weirdo who had a personal beef with the guy. Two stranger murders, both exactly the same – psycho killer on the loose. So they tried everything, looked at every little piece of evidence two, three, four times, but the few small clues they managed to find led to nowhere. Just like last time.<p>

After three days and two nearly sleepless nights, Gibbs finally sent them home to get some rest. Well, mainly he sent Ziva home. Both he and McGee had fallen asleep at their desks several times, but only when he had found Ziva in Abby's lab, curled up under Abby's sleeping table, her head resting on Bert the Hippo, Gibbs had decided to give them a break. It may or may not have had something to do with him almost starting to giggle hysterically at the sight – and sound – of Ziva snoring in unison with Bert's farts, Tony speculated as he manoeuvred a sleepy Ziva through his apartment to the bedroom. Almost. Because he was, after all, Gibbs, and it was entirely un-Gibbs to giggle hysterically.

At least in public.

"Rem'mber to set the 'larm", Ziva mumbled as she plopped down on the bed, already half asleep again. Tony grumbled his acknowledgement, throwing his jacket and shirt over a chair. He crawled onto the bed beside Ziva, received a nudge when he tried to snuggle up to her, and finally settled more or less comfortably on his side of the mattress.

He was asleep even before Ziva started snoring again.

-o-

Hunger as well as old habits woke Ziva up early. Tony was still sound asleep, and they weren't expected at the Navy yard for another few hours, so she quietly got up and left the bedroom, granting Tony some more rest.

She rummaged through the kitchen until she had assembled a reasonable breakfast and settled for a quiet meal at the table. The morning paper had already arrived, and she decided taking another look at the real estate section couldn't hurt. She had already picked two places to look at, but with both Tony's list and her own, she seriously doubted that any of those would qualify.

"Ew. Are you eating your eggs with jam again?"

Ziva almost dropped her fork as Tony shuffled into the kitchen. He still wore most of his clothes from the day before, and his hair stuck out in every direction. Padding over to the coffee maker on bare feet, yawning, he looked way too boyish for a soon-to-be dad.

"It is not 'ew', it is a delicacy. You should try it."

"No thanks, I'll pass on that one." He sat down on the other side of the table. "What are you looking at?"

"Houses. I really doubt that we're lucky enough to find a suitable place on the first try. Not with all that stuff on... _your_ list."

Suddenly he looked incredibly guilty. "You know, uhh, about my list... if you feel pressured or something, I'll scratch that second kid's room. We... can just-"

"No." She put her coffee mug aside. "It is all right. I... have thought about it. And I..."

She hesitated. Saying it out loud, wouldn't that make it so much more real? What if, in the end, it didn't work out? If she gave him that reassurance now and it ended badly, it would crush Tony's heart even worse than it would now.

Taking a deep breath, she looked him in the eye.

"I think we should consider it at least the possibility that we might need that second room some day."

-o-

A few hours later, she almost regretted that kind-of-a-promise. Ever since he had stopped kissing her at the breakfast table, he had been going on about how they would find their _perfect_ home for a _perfect_ family, living a _perfect_ life. He wasn't serious about half of it, but his enthusiasm scared Ziva more than she would have admitted. She had just thought of a mere possibility, far away in the future. A mere _maybe_. But what did _he_ make of that?

Finally, she decided to push that thought into the far back of her mind. She couldn't very well take it all back, so all she could do was try to dampen Tony's enthusiasm a little – at least until she knew what _she_ wanted. Today, all she had to worry about was the two houses they'd examine in the afternoon. Well, besides catching a crazy serial killer.

When they left for south-west DC after work, where they would meet up with a real estate agent at the first house Ziva had picked, she was ready to push Tony off of a very high building. He had been babbling all day, much of it nonsense and some of it outright begging for a good smack upside the head. She couldn't very well smack Tony in front of a witness, so she had resorted to kicking his shins under the table. The pained expression on his face had almost been satisfying.

Now he was silent for once as they drove through a nice, quiet neighbourhood. Neatly combed front lawns and clean-swept driveways lined the road. The streets were deserted; everyone seemed to be already inside for dinner. Finally, Tony pulled over to park at the curb in front of a rather small-ish, two-story house. The once white paint had become a light grey, and the lawn was in severe need of a mowing, but all in all, the first impression wasn't too bad.

"Is this the right one?" He looked at the address again. Ziva shrugged and grabbed her purse.

"Must be. Look, there's someone in the driveway."

The real estate agent greeted them at the door, already chatting enthusiastically about the _wonderful_ house and the _wonderful_ neighbourhood before she had even unlocked the door. Inside, they were greeted by a rather gloomy hallway and an adjacent kitchen. Ziva couldn't help but notice the kitchen door clinging to only one hinge.

"Oh, don't mind that, that'll be fixed before you get the keys." The heavily made-up woman smiled widely, and Ziva quietly wondered how she stopped all that make-up from falling off her face. "But just look at the windows! So large, and you can see the whole front yard!"

_Could_ was more like it. The huge tree right in front of the window prevented Ziva from doing exactly that; it also seemed to be responsible for the murky light in kitchen and hallway.

"Oh, you can cut that down if you want to, of course. It will make for some nice firewood you can burn in this _wonderful_ fireplace."

They trudged through the unfurnished kitchen and entered the living room, which was only slightly better lit. The huge fireplace dominated the room. Or rather, the lavish marble decorations did, sharply contrasting with the run-down wooden floor and the cracked window at its left.

"Uhm, about that wind-"

Tony was immediately cut off by the real estate agent again. "Oh, like I said, we'll have that fixed, of course. Now, aren't those ornaments _wonderful?_"

"More like 'absolutely hideous'", Ziva mouthed, making Tony grin behind the other woman's back. They obediently followed the agent around as she pointed out the practical (sagging) built-in bookshelves, the cute little (tarnished) bay windows, and the absolutely _wonderful_ (crumbling) stuccoed ceiling. They made it through the living room without bolting, and even kept a straight face in the tiny bathroom with the mould stains, which would, of course, be fixed before they would move in. Even the office with the gaping hole in the wall ("We'll see to that, you won't recognise the room afterwards!") wasn't quite enough to make them run.

What did cause them to turn around and sprint out the door was the third step on the stairs which first creaked, then groaned, and then gave in when Ziva stepped on it. Horrified – and unwilling to die rather ingloriously by falling through a broken floor – Ziva had grabbed Tony and all but dragged him out the door, with the real estate agent yelling after them that they would "get it fixed if you decide to sign the deal!". It probably looked like they were running from a crime scene as they hopped into the car and, making the tires squeal, left the house behind before the real estate agent even made it out the door.

They drove in silence for a few minutes, until Tony pulled over and stopped in front of a small diner. One slight glance at each other, and they both burst into hysterical laughter.

"How... did you find... _that_ one?" Tony managed to get out between two fits of laughter. Pressing her hands to her mouth, Ziva shook her head.

"I found this site on the internet", she finally explained after calming down a little. Frowning, Tony looked at her.

"_What_ site?"

"I think it was called 'Craigslist'." Ziva stared out the window, watching the diner's waitress cut into a delicious-looking cake. "Now that I think about it, there were some rather odd advertisements on that site."

"Craigslist?" It sounded a bit like Tony had difficulties breathing. "You tried to find us a house on _Craigslist?_"

"What? It looked like a respectable offer!" Ziva defended herself. "How could I know it was not?"

"Okay, Ziva, don't take this as an offense, but you don't look for stuff on Craigslist. You just... don't."

Confused, Ziva looked back at Tony. "Why not? It looked all right."

"It's _Craigslist_", Tony stated as if that was some sort of explanation. "You don't buy stuff from Craigslist. Craigslist is like... a giant garage sale where everyone puts the stuff nobody wants and slash or is illegal."

"But-"

"No. Please, trust me on this. Don't look on Craigslist. Just don't." He pointed to the diner. "I'll buy you cake if you promise me right now and here you'll never click Craigslist again if it isn't strictly for entertaining purposes. Deal?"

Ziva eyed him closely. It sounded like a joke, but _he_ didn't sound like he was joking. Then again, the house _was_ a nasty surprise, and the cake looked very tempting...

"All right", she gave in. "We have a deal. But you better buy yourself a separate piece of cake. I will not share, especially not after I nearly died in that house."

"Fine." Tony took the key, left the car and walked around to open the door for her. "If that means I'll be spared another trip to a death trap."

Shaking his head, he led the way around the parked cars and to the diner's front door.

"Craigslist. Seriously?"

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><p><em>I'll try to get the next chapter up before Christmas. Even if it means leaving my lovely Guild Wars chars on their own for a few nights *sniffs*<em>


	9. Chapter 9

_Hello :)_

_Sorry, sorry, sorry! I know I said Christmas, but you know what they say about plans and how they make the universe laugh at you -.-_

_Long story short, I wrote the chapter, and shortly before finishing decided it was crap and deleted all five pages. Yeah, well... shit happens._

_Anyways, here's the rewrite; enjoy!_

_And thanks for the reviews so far, I'm really happy so many of you guys like the story :)_

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><p>"Please tell me you didn't find this one on Craigslist, too", Tony muttered as they walked up to the house. Huffing, Ziva poked his side.<p>

"This one is from the newspaper, do not worry."

Their hasty retreat from the first showing had allowed them to have an extended coffee break before they had – only the slightest bit hesitantly – headed for the second one. This time, the house itself already looked considerably cleaner on the outside, and the young man meeting them in the driveway was a pleasant surprise as well, greeting them politely and handing them a folder with the basic facts about the object.

Throughout the tour, he gave them plenty of details about the house: hardwood floors, newly renovated bathrooms, large backyard... and with each detail, Ziva grew more suspicious. The ad hadn't mentioned an exact price, simply had stated it was a 'well-priced bargain'. Whatever that meant.

They finished their tour in the master bedroom, a wonderfully decorated ensuite with cream-coloured walls and a soft wall-to-wall carpet in a slightly darker colour. The dark wood of the furniture contrasted nicely with it, and the few colourful decorations added a nice touch to the overall impression.

Tony didn't seem to be quite as mesmerised as she was; when Ziva caught the mention of money, she quickly returned her attention to Tony and the real estate agent.

"...what this is gonna cost us."

They both looked at the young man expectantly, who didn't seem quite as confident anymore.

"Well, considering the neighbourhood, the size of the lot and the condition-"

"How much?" Ziva interrupted. She was already sure it was well out of their price range, so they might as well get it over with.

"Ah, well." The agent pulled at his collar. "With all the fees, the house will be just below four-hundred thousand dollars. It's a real bargain", he added quickly.

Yeah. A bargain all right. Ziva shook her head in frustration, and Tony whistled, a disbelieving look on his face. "Wait, four-hundred grand, and you're calling this a bargain? In what universe is _that_ a bargain?"

The real estate agent looked decidedly uncomfortable now. "Well, Sir, like I said, considering the condition-"

"Yes, I know what you said." Tony shoved the folder back into the younger man's hands. "Although I believe you should have said something _before_ we took the entire tour. You know, waste of time and such."

"I wouldn't say that-"

"Well, of course not", Ziva cut him short. "_You_ get paid to show people around the house, _we_ just wasted perfectly good reading time." She nodded curtly. "Thank you for your time, anyway."

She marched out of the room, Tony on her heels and leaving behind a rather crestfallen real estate agent. Granted, maybe she had been a little bit harsh to the boy, but two failures in one day could make anyone cranky, right?

She was about to yank the car door open when Tony caught her hand and took the keys from her before she could protest.

"I'd rather not die today because you are pissed off at that boy."

"I am not pissed off", Ziva muttered, but got in the car on the passenger's side. "I just think he should have told us about the price beforehand."

"Well, of course he didn't." Tony pulled away from the curb and made a slightly illegal U-turn. "They never do that."

"What?" Frowning, Ziva searched the glove compartment for a chocolate bar she had placed there a few days ago? Where was the damn thing? "Do they think we buy a too-expensive house just because we like the kitchen?"

"Something like that. Look, I'm not happy we wasted a whole afternoon, either, but did you really expect to find something on the first day?" He glanced at her, pushed her hands aside and closed the compartment. "Stop making me nervous. You ate that chocolate bar on our way to the first house."

"I did?" Huffing, Ziva leaned back. "You know, I did tell you it would be easier to rent an apartment in the city."

Tony's exasperated sigh told her just what he thought of this. "Not again. You know it wouldn't be any easier. And besides, do you really want our kid to grow up in the middle of a big city?"

Ziva barely kept herself from sticking out her tongue at him. "_I_ grew up in a big city, and I did turn out all right, did I not?"

"Well, yes, but..." Tony scratched his head. "This is an _American_ city. Everything is bigger here, including the crime rates, so I stand by it: We will not move into an apartment in the middle of DC with a baby."

"Fine", Ziva snapped, turning to stare out the window. "So _you_ go looking for a house in a nice suburban neighbourhood that we can afford and that does not kill us as soon as we step into it."

"Only very badly injured", Tony replied. "Come on, it wasn't all wasted time. At least we know now what we can't afford and what we shouldn't buy."

Granted, he was right about that. She mentally went through all the other houses she had found so far. When she applied the new criteria (including Tony's Craigslist ban), the list grew depressingly short.

"So we are down to three", she muttered. "From seventeen."

"Three? How did _that_ happen?"

"Well, when we strike out everything that is supposed to be a 'bargain' and everything that actually is cheap... and the two other houses from Craigslist... we have three places left", she explained. Tony's face almost made up for that nuisance. He looked like a sulking boy who was told he could only have three toys instead of the promised twenty.

"So we are back where we started. Great."

-o-

They kept looking, using every afternoon they could spare and even taking a day off to go to an open house – to no avail. Come May, they had found three suitable houses, but none of them was what they really wanted. They both knew that they were operating on a rather tight schedule - not to mention their budget - but still, shouldn't they by now have found at least one house they could both agree on, without lowering their sights?

The growing frustration put quite a lot of tension on their relationship, going as far as Ziva snarling at Tony for some banality before declaring she would spend the night at her place and storming off, fuming. Tony sat at his desk, baffled, and looked after her, until a snap of fingers in front of his face drew his attention.

"What?" he spat, causing McGee to take a step back.

"I was asking what the hell is wrong with you two." McGee crossed his arms, looking down at him. "You've been jumping down each other's throats all day."

"None of your business, McNosy", Tony grumbled, stuffing his wallet and phone in his bag without looking up. He was just wondering what kind of punishment he would receive for strangling a co-worker when a shadow fell on him.

"I said it's none of your busin-" He almost swallowed his tongue a he cut himself short. "Oh. Hey, boss. Something come up?"

"Conference room, DiNozzo. Now."

Gulping, Tony got up. If Ziva had been scary before, he didn't dare refuse an order from Gibbs when he was given _that_ look. He followed Gibbs to an empty room, not entirely comfortable with having his boss in his back as Gibbs held the door open for him – then slammed it shut and unceremoniously shoved Tony in a chair.

"So." Gibbs leaned against the wall, watching Tony with a stern expression. "What is going on between you two?"

"N-nothing, boss. We're just... a bit stressed at the moment, that's all."

"DiNozzo, when I ask you what is wrong, I want an honest answer. We'll try again. What is wrong?"

When Tony dared to look at Gibbs' face, he was surprised to see that his formerly grim expression had softened somewhat, revealing something that came very close to _father_.

"You do realise whatever is happening between you two is beginning to affect the whole team? I can't have that. When I said I would split you up if it doesn't work, I meant it. So you better be honest with me, DiNozzo, if you want to stay on this team."

So it was him who would have to lgo. Tony almost laughed. Of course. Gibbs wouldn't make _Ziva_ leave.

"You know, Ziva isn't the only one who goes through a difficult time!" he suddenly blurted out, almost bitterly. "I may have slept around a bit, but that doesn't mean I deal with this kind of situation every other week."

"Nobody said that", Gibbs replied sternly. "And I'm sure Ziva knows that."

"Does she? Well, she sure hides it well."

"Don't be an idiot, DiNozzo."

With a heavy sigh, Gibbs pushed himself away from the wall and went over to the coffee maker, pouring them both a cup and setting one down in front of Tony. He settled down across from him.

"She is well aware that it's not easy for you, either. But you should keep in mind that she's the one who has her hormones running wild, and while she might explode over the smallest things, she doesn't mean to hurt you."

He took a sip of his coffee, staring at some point at the wall. The look in his eyes was one Tony had never seen before.

"When Shannon was pregnant with Kelly, she would yell at me every time I would open the bedroom window. She claimed it would 'give the baby a cold', so I couldn't air the room for a full seven months. After Kelly was born and Shannon brought her home, she put her in the crib, then went over to the window and yanked it open. Then she proceeded to scold me for not airing the bedroom in months." He smiled, his thoughts obviously decades away. "The next morning, she apologised and told me that next time, I should open any window I wanted and just ignore her whining."

Unsure of what to say, Tony stared at his hands. Gibbs rarely spoke of his family, and he never shared things this private.

"DiNozzo?"

Cautiously, he looked up and met Gibbs' gaze.

"There's no expectant mother on this planet who will act completely rational. That doesn't mean she doesn't care about you and thinks you have it easy. Just cut her some slack, everything will be fine." He downed his coffee and stood up, pulling something out of his pocket. "Also, I may have someone who can help you. Thomas is an old friend, he left NCIS to become a sculptor. His second wife is in real estate. Tell him I gave you his number, I think he can help you find a cosy place. And then you will hopefully stop that bickering. It would be a shame to split my team up."

With that, Gibbs left, leaving a dumbfounded Tony behind. After a few moments, Tony took the scrap of paper. A number and a name were scrawled on it. Absently, he stuffed it in his pocket and left the room, a grin spreading slowly on his face. Well, turns out Gibbs _did_ worry about both of them after all – even if he tended to express his affection for Tony with a well-timed whack upside the head. Literally and verbally.

* * *

><p><em>That last paragraph is... I don't know, maybe it's not as bad as I think it is.<em>

_Care to tell me what _you_ think? ;)_


	10. Chapter 10

_Uhm... so, yeah... hi?_

_I guess it just sounds stupid by now, but I'm really sorry it took me so long to update. I was planning on writing this after my finals, but then I screwed up a big test, and it didn't really get better after that._

_I suppose I did lose some of you, but I guess I can't blame you. In any case, I just hope there is still someone out there reading this and metaphorically kicking my ass to go write the next chapter in significantly less time..._

_Achem. Anyways. Have chapter ten :)_

* * *

><p>"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Ziva sounded as doubtful as he felt. "It is really cheap for where it is, maybe it is just another ruin."<p>

"Nah, I don't think so." _Hoped so_ was more like it; but after all, Gibbs had recommended her, and that had to count for something, right? "Listen, let's just go take a look at it, and if it's not hat we're looking for, we can just get back home again." _And start the next round of death traps and rat-infested basements._

"Fine. I trust Gibbs, and maybe we are lucky. I just do not want to buy something just because it is cheap and we are running out of time."

"We won't. We still have plenty of time."

"That depends on what you consider 'plenty'", Ziva replied. "It is almost June, and we still have to pack up and move, and I will not be able to carry boxes much longer."

Rolling his eyes, Tony took a turn. "You will not carry anything anywhere when we move."

"Do not patronise me, Tony!" Great, now he had made her angry. Again. "You know full well that I am still able to kick your ass with my hands tied behind my back."

"I do know that, don't worry. I just don't think you should carry any more than you already do."

He realised his mistake as he practically _felt_ her glaring at him. "Are you implying I am fat?"

"I... no! Of course I'm not!" He entered the street Mrs. Lawson had mentioned. "Can we just stop talking now, I think I'm getting a headache."

Deciding he shouldn't ask just what she was muttering under her breath, he pulled up to the curb in front of what he thought might be the right house. It looked a little shabby, what with the paint peeling off and the untrimmed lawn, but a sign reading '237' was stuck into the ground, so it was definitely the right one. Besides, he wouldn't dare to just drive away again and risk Gibbs yelling at him.

Another car was parked right in front of them, and as he turned off the engine, the door on the driver's side opened. Tony noticed that the woman climbing out was wearing jeans and sneakers. The ponytail that kept her hair at bay didn't really look business-like, either.

"You think that's her? She totally doesn't look like a real estate lady."

Shrugging, Ziva unbuckled her seatbelt. "We should just find out, should we not?"

"Nope, definitely not real estate", Tony mumbled, not taking his eyes off the woman. "More like a mom. A hot mom. A MILF. Ow!"

Pregnant or not, apparently, Ziva was still very much capable of sneaking up on him. And he had to admit, the smack through the open window was well deserved.

"Don't worry, you'll be a hot mom, too", he pouted, rubbing the back of his head as he got out of the car. Ziva just poked him in the side.

"Focus, Tony!"

"Yes. Right. Focus. By which I mean _not_ on _her._"

"A wise decision", Ziva commented smugly before _she_ focused on the approaching woman. "Hello. You must be Mrs. Lawson."

"Yes." Smiling, the woman took the hand offered. "So you are the DiNozzos?"

It was almost comical to see the shock on Ziva's face. Almost. "Oh, no. No! We are not.. I am not..."

"We're not married", Tony cut in, barely able to hide his grin. "Hi, I'm Anthony DiNozzo, we spoke on the phone. This is Ziva David."

"Oh, I thought... never mind. Pleasure to meet you." Mrs. Lawson gestured towards the house. "Now, I'm terribly sorry, but I don't have a lot of time, I have to pick up my youngest from soccer practice in two hours. Shall we go inside?"

"Of course." Tony tried his best to keep his eyes from Mrs. Lawson's backside as they started towards the house; seemed like old habits really did die hard. "It's very nice you could make it at all on such short notice."

"Oh, it's all right." She winked at him over her shoulder as she unlocked the door. "I know Jethro, and when he calls you at ten pm to tell you it's urgent, it really is."

"Oh, he... he called you?" Suddenly feeling slightly watched, Tony resisted the urge to look over his shoulder. "That's cool. I suppose."

The door swung open, and Ziva nudged him forward. "Oh, come on, Tony, he is just trying to help us."

"I swear, if he jumped out of the bushes now, I wouldn't be surprised", he muttered as he followed Ziva and Mrs. Lawson inside. The latter fumbled for the light switch beside the door.

"I know it looks a little run-down, but trust me, the substance is still good, or I wouldn't show this house to a client."

As the lights flickered to life, Tony saw what she meant. The wallpaper looked like it had last been updated in the sixties, as did the linoleum floor. A single painting on the wall showed a moose in a forest munching on some wildflowers.

"Tasteful", Ziva commented. Mrs. Lawson chuckled.

"Sorry, I forgot that was there. The owner left it, I meant to throw it out. Anyway, I guess you'd like to know some details. Let's start with the kitchen."

-o-

She would have to send Gibbs a thank-you card. Or maybe ten. Ten of of those big, obnoxious, singing ones. And she would record the song herself. That really was the least she could do. After all, he had given them this perfect opportunity.

And it really was perfect. While Tony was asking tons of questions about the wiring, the plumbing, the roof and whatnot, she was already planning where to put the sofa. Well, maybe she wasn't _this_ far ahead of things, but this house... she could definitely see herself living here. See _them_ living here.

It really was strange. They had seen something along the lines of forty places, including some apartments in the city, but nothing had appealed to her quite like this. It didn't nearly have everything they had wanted, but somehow, that didn't really matter. The spacious kitchen and living area almost made up for the missing breakfast nook, and the office slash private movie theatre on the ground floor helped Tony over the fact that the house didn't have a fireplace. Two small but cosy bedrooms overlooked the unexpectedly large backyard, the third one the tiny front lawn. She was still wary about that particular number of bedrooms, but for Tony's sake, she tried not to think of what it signified. The third one could still end up a guest room, right?

As they finally finished their tour in the garden, Ziva could have sworn she saw Tony's eyes glaze over when they stepped out on the small terrace and he saw the brick-built barbecue. He all but drooled as he slowly walked over to check it out.

"So?" Mrs. Lawson stood beside Ziva, watching Tony with a barely concealed grin. "I take it you like the place?"

"It is very nice, yes." Her own smile faded, and she turned to face the other woman. "But you still have not told us the price."

"Ah. Yes." Mrs Lawson reached into her purse and retrieved a few printed pages. "I was afraid that, if I told you on the phone, you might not want to see the house at all. But after what Jethro told me, I thought you really should take a look at it, it might be just what you're looking for."

Ziva took the pages with a sinking feeling in her stomach. That didn't sound good, not at all. They wouldn't be able to afford this, and they would have to start looking all over again, and they probably wouldn't-

"Excuse me, are you sure this is the right sum?"

Blinking, she stared at the six figures on the bottom of the first page. That couldn't be right. Not in this neighbourhood, not for three bedrooms, and _certainly_ not for Tony's barbecue grill.

"It is. The owner wants to sell a.s.a.p., and that really is as low as he will go." Mrs. Lawson looked the slightest bit uncomfortable now. "See, Jethro told me you've seen a lot of bad places, and I was afraid that the price might convince you this is just another dump, and you wouldn't even try." The corners of her mouth twitched upward. "I'm sorry, but I really thought you should at least give it a shot. I'm good at my job, and I know it when a house is the right choice for someone."

"But... you did not even know us, how could you possibly know what we are looking for?"

A smug grin crept on Mrs. Lawson's face. "When Jethro called me, he talked to me for almost an hour. He was very insistent on what you were looking for. And you should know just how insistent he can be." She winked. "And, like I said, I'm also incredibly good at my job."

"Uhm... is everything all right?" They both turned to Tony who had finished drooling over the barbecue. Frowning, he looked from Mrs. Lawson to Ziva. "You look, like, a bit green again."

"I... what?" Ziva shook her head. "I am okay. I was just, uhh, wondering... you should take a look at this."

She passed him the pages, holding her breath. If it were just up to her, she would have already said – screamed – yes, but did Tony feel the same way about this?

"...is this for real?" Tony looked up, waving the pages. "I mean, is this actually legit? There is no, I don't know, horrible secret about the house? Ghosts? Booby traps? A serial killer next door?"

"No, that's the actual price", Mrs Lawson confirmed, laughing. "I just said, the owner really wants to sell this thing as soon as humanly possible. I think he inherited it from his parents or something. He doesn't want, how did he put it, 'anything to do with this creepy dump'."

"But... it's not a dump, right?" Tony asked warily. The other woman shook her head.

"No, it's not, I promise. The owner even got an expert report, to help me find a buyer. It's pages four to six. It looks shabby, but apart from the floor in the foyer and maybe the office, what needs to be done is mostly cosmetic. Wallpapers and fresh paint, a handful of new shingles on the roof maybe."

Again, Tony looked at the figures at the bottom of the page. "That sounds like an incredible lot of luck."

"Well, maybe it is. The universe has its weird ways, right?" Checking her watch, Mrs. Lawson made a face. "Listen, you don't have to decide right now. Take the info with you, and you can discuss it at home. No pressure."

"Uh, yes, right." Tony glanced at Ziva, seeking her gaze. "We... will do that, right?"

"Right." Ziva resisted the urge to look away. "We will."

-o-

After they had said their good-byes and Mrs. Lawson had driven off to pick up her son, they sat in the car in silence. Tony was still checking and double-checking the info on the pages. The rustling of the paper was starting to annoy her, and finally, she had enough.

"Tony, look at me." He did as she said, still looking slightly baffled, and she sighed. "I am sure there is nothing new on those pages. It comes down to this. We have seen the house, and we have the price. The building is in good condition, and..." Suddenly feeling a little self-conscious, she looked away, fiddling with the zipper of her jacket. "I really like the house. It does not have all we wanted, but it really is... nice."

"It is", Tony agreed after a moment of silence. "You know... I'm actually considering..."

He trailed off, staying quiet for a few moments. When Ziva looked at him again, he was staring at her.

"What do _you_ think?"

She waited a heartbeat, two, three. Bit her lip. Then she smiled. "I think we should find someone who knows how to fix a roof."


End file.
